Years ago, a friend asked if I had ever heard the music of Keith Jarrett. I said that I did not know him.
Within the next week, I received a gift - an album, titled, "Keith Jarrett, The Koln Concert". Laying it upon my turntable, I began to hear music like I'd never heard it before - entrancing piano music, winding its way, gently and then wildly, into the space of my small San Francisco apartment. I clearly heard each note, each set of notes - notes upon notes, hand over hand, soaring sounds melding into other sounds. It brought me into a wondrous state. And as I learned, I was listening to the music of an improvisational genius.
On rainy days, when I knew I would be inside, relaxed and solitary, I would listen to Jarrett. As raindrops fell, that enchanting piano music whirled around me and everything felt fine.
In the background, Mr. Jarrett accompanied his piano with sounds of a man possessed - playing for those who listened, playing just for himself.
Many years have passed and, incredulously, I forgot about this brilliant musician.
Today, I found him, once again. He was there all the time. I'd just forgotten and moved on.
From The LA Times, "Jazz review: Keith Jarrett at Walt Disney Concert Hall", March 28, 2012 - Chris Barton:
"...And what a display of music it was. As shown on last year's live double-CD "Rio," Jarrett's rabbit-out-of-the-hat gifts for improvisation are still razor sharp, pulling from an unfathomable musical vocabulary to create something unlike anybody else. Reaching inside his piano to tap out an off-kilter, free rhythm along its wooden skeleton and strings, Jarrett began the show with what felt like a gently dissonant greeting to his instrument. Slowly he gathered the piece into a tumble of notes up and down his keyboard, sneaking up on what coalesced into a quiet, moonlit melody."
If you have never heard about Keith Jarrett, begin your journey with the links, below.